


Infirmary

by akiyan



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 03:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10631088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akiyan/pseuds/akiyan
Summary: “Please stay a little longer,” Chiaki catches the desperation in his own voice, wants to chastise himself for it, but in this moment all he cares about, all he wants and needs is standing right in front of him at arm's length and he's not about to let go.In which Chiaki winds up in the infirmary again, and Kuro checks up on him like a good boyfriend.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written NSFW in years, so don't expect this to be good, or anything.

By now, lying in the school infirmary has become a regular part of Chiaki's routine. Wake up. Brush teeth. Get dressed. Go to school. Fail some ridiculous stunt. Wind up with anything from a scrape to a sprain to a nasty laceration. Let Jin berate him with a half-hearted lecture. Rest on the hard mattress of the infirmary bed for x amount of time. Leave, go about his day, rinse and repeat.

 

Chiaki sighs through his nose. The cut on the back of his scalp itches so badly, he wants to scratch it raw through the bandages around his head, probably could, since Jin left shortly after patching him up (his “lunch break” with Akiomi, he said). Instead of doing that and risking another lecture he doesn't want to hear and Jin doesn't want to give, Chiaki forces his hands to rest at his sides, and closes his eyes in hopes to drift off to sleep.

 

He hears the door open, but Chiaki doesn't stir. It's probably just Jin, after all. Even as the door closes and the footsteps approach him, and the curtains brush against each other and the metallic rings chime against the frame holding up the curtain, Chiaki feigns sleep. With deep and steady breath, he waits for Jin to do what he needs to do and slink off into his corner of the infirmary to read or sleep or drink or do whatever he does in here all hours of the day.

 

He waits, and waits, but nothing happens. There are no more footsteps, no more shifting curtains, no movement, no sound save for the hum of the air conditioner.

 

“Morisawa,” a voice that is not Jin's cuts through the silence.

 

“Kiryu?” Chiaki doesn't have to open his eyes to know that it's Kuro standing before him, but he opens them anyways. “What are you doing here? Hasn't class started?” Admittedly, Chiaki doesn't actually know what time it is or how long he's been in the infirmary, but he figures lunch is long over.

 

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Kuro strides to the side of the bed, “aren't you tired of always ending up in this place already?”

 

“You don't understand,” Chiaki whines, “I had to show Sena and Hakaze that they were wrong! They bet I couldn't backflip off of the table.”

 

Kuro raises his eyebrows and crosses his muscular arms across his chest like a mother ready to scold her child. “And?”

 

“And… I guess I couldn't!” Chiaki admits with a laugh. “A bet lost, oh well- ow! What'd you flick me for?”

 

“You're such an idiot,” Kuro's voice contains no venom. He moves to draw back his hand, brushing his fingertips against Chiaki's cheek before resting his hand on top of his. When Kuro squeezes his hand, Chiaki can feel every callous on his palm as if it were his own, and his breath catches in his throat. “I was worried when I heard you were in here again.”

 

Words failing, heart stuck in his throat, all Chiaki can do to ground himself is take in Kuro's face. His eyes, so narrow and sharp yet gazing so softly at the spot where his thumb rubs circles on the back of Chiaki’s hand. The same lonely lock of red hair on his forehead just touching the ridge of his furrowed brow. The tight line of his mouth curved down ever so slightly at the corners, and the angular lines of his jaw shaped in such a way it drags Chiaki’s eyes down his past his adam's apple to his collarbones just peeking out of his shirt to his - Chiaki forces a shaky sigh out of himself and focuses his gaze back on Kuro’s face.

 

“Sorry, Kiryu,” Chiaki squeezes his hand back as he wonders what someone like him, so dumb and reckless, did to deserve someone as good and beautiful as Kuro Kiryu, “I'll try to be more careful.”

 

“Good,” the corners of Kuro’s lips lift into a smile. He bends down and kisses the bandages on Chiaki’s forehead, chaste and light, and Chiaki closes his eyes and takes a moment to just breathe him in. Chiaki is used to the scent of antiseptic by now, but the smell of Kuro, of his cologne and his hairspray and just of  _ him _ , fills his lungs like it's his first time breathing and Chiaki wishes they could stay like this forever, that he could just take in everything that Kuro is until it becomes part of himself. That imagined forever turns into a second as Kuro pulls away, his smell and touch fleeing from Chiaki’s senses. Opening his eyes, Chiaki hastily grabs Kuro’s wrist.

 

“Please stay a little longer,” Chiaki catches the desperation in his own voice, wants to chastise himself for it, but in this moment all he cares about, all he wants and needs is standing right in front of him at arm's length and he's not about to let go.

 

Kuro seems to understand him, because he wordlessly nods and, when Chiaki opens his arms wide, climbs into them without any hesitation (but a single deep sigh). The bed is barely big enough for one person, so Kuro has no choice but to lie almost entirely on top of Chiaki, but Chiaki loves the press of his weight on top of him as much as he loves the comforting and familiar smell of him, as much as he loves every single part of Kuro. Maybe he loves it a little  _ too _ much, Chiaki realizes as he shifts his legs around awkwardly.

 

“Kiryu,” Chiaki wraps his arms around Kuro and runs a hand through his hair, soft to the touch despite the amount of product he uses to style it.

 

Kuro only hums in response, low and rumbling, sending reverberations right through Chiaki’s core. His breath feels warm on Chiaki’s neck, too warm, too much for Chiaki to bear, too much for Chiaki to resist tilting up Kuro's chin for a kiss.

 

Every other sensation in his mind shuts down, all he can think is  _ Kuro, Kuro, Kuro _ . As he closes his eyes, all he can feel is Kuro, his lips hot like fire and Chiaki isn't afraid to be burned. He feels Kuro shift and pull away, and Chiaki is about to whine when he opens his eyes and sees Kuro’s large frame looming over him, with a smirk on his lips and hunger in his eyes that heats up Chiaki in all the right places. Kuro’s lips are back on him before he can fully soak in the view, nipping his lips for only a moment before moving down and leaving a trail of fire along his jawline and down his neck. He stops just at the bit of Chiaki’s collarbone exposed by his open collar, sucking and biting too softly to bruise, but just enough for Chiaki to feel himself unwinding with every flick of Kuro’s tongue.

 

“Kiryu… Kiryu…” Chiaki pants and moans.

 

Kuro pulls away again, fixing Chiaki with that same hungry stare.

 

“Morisawa,” Kuro breathes out, almost as ragged as Chiaki, “tell me what you want.”

 

He might as well have asked him how to build a rocket from scratch, or every element the moon is made out of, because those are easier questions to answer. There isn't a way that Chiaki  _ doesn't _ want him, he always wants him, wants every part of him at once. Wants- no,  _ needs - _ him like food and water and air and every component critical to life itself. Without an answer to give, Chiaki pulls Kuro by his shirt and clumsily smashes their lips together. The force of this kiss hurts just a little, but Chiaki spares no time to wince, his tongue already licking at Kuro’s bottom lip and slipping inside his mouth when Kuro parts his lips with a moan. Kuro’s mouth feels so good, so warm and wet, and Chiaki shivers when Kuro rolls his tongue just right, and an idea of one of the many things he wants pops into his mind. Chiaki pulls away and cups Kuro’s face in his hands.

 

“Blow me.” Chiaki’s voice is thin and ragged, but he hopes he sounds somewhat confident and sexy. He must, at least a little bit, because Kuro looks flustered yet even more hungry above him, only nodding and stealing another forceful kiss before sliding off the side of the bed and falling to his knees.

 

“I can scoot up on the bed so you don't have to kneel on the hard floor,” Chiaki offers even as he throws his legs over the edge and frames Kuro’s head with them.

 

“I know, but I like being able to look up at you from this angle while I suck you off,” Kuro’s eyes flash up at him as if to demonstrate, and Chiaki silently agrees that he too likes it very much. Kuro lowers his eyes to Chiaki's pants, quickly undoing his button and zipper and pulling his half hard cock out from his fly.

 

As Chiaki feels himself grow harder with every slow, long stroke of Kuro’s hand, he hisses and desperately grinds into his calloused touch already slick with precum. Kuro plants his free hand at Chiaki’s hip, restricting his movement as he continues to move teasingly slow down Chiaki's cock. It's not enough for Chiaki, too delicate and light when he needs to feel Kuro on him like he's his own skin. He opens his mouth to beg for more, but a startled hiccup tears from his throat when he feels Kuro’s lips against the head of his cock.

 

Kuro let's out a short, airy laugh before glancing up at Chiaki's face. “You like that, huh?”

 

“Y-yeah, Kiryu fuck…” Chiaki's breath shakes as he struggles against the urge to grab Kuro by the hair and fuck his mouth until he comes. “Please, fuck, just do it.”

 

“Yeah, course,” eyes back down to his task, Kuro whispers and stills his hand at the base of Chiaki’s cock. He plants a wet kiss at the side of his cock, the slow trail of his tongue and lips along the shaft driving Chiaki mad with every nip and lick. With one long lick, Kuro reaches the head of Chiaki’s cock, moving his hand up and pushing the foreskin aside with his thumb before moving it back down and wrapping his lips around it.

 

“Oh, god,” Chiaki rips out a guttural moan from his core as Kuro sucks the the tip of his cock, slowly enveloping more of him in the warm, wet heat of his mouth with every bob of his head. Kuro's free hand slides from its spot on Chiaki's hip, down to his own pants and Kuro undoes his own zipper. He's already fully erect, and watching Kuro pump his cock as he takes another one down his throat makes the heat in Chiaki's groin burn even hotter.

 

Kuro moans, the reverberations wracking him with so much pleasure that Chiaki can't resist grabbing a fistful of Kuro’s hair in each hand, guiding himself further and faster and harder down his throat while still being careful of his limits, slowing down when he gags and only speeding up again when Kuro looks up at him so expectantly. When Kuro's nose brushes the front of Chiaki's pants, his hand now useless at Chiaki's base reaches down to help with his own problem, one hand furiously stroking his shaft as the other massages the tip.

 

“Kiryu, fuck, you're so good,” Chiaki praises, his hands in Kuro’s hair petting instead of pulling as Kuro finds his own rhythm, sending him closer to the edge with every suck and lick. One particularly skillful maneuver of Kuro's tongue sends Chiaki's head back, eyes screwing shut and an aroused howl rising from his throat that he hopes no one could hear from the hallway (or so he'd usually care to worry, but Kuro feels so good on him that he can't think about anything but Kuro).

 

What really does Chiaki in, what really finally pushes him overboard, is when he opens his eyes again and looks down on Kuro. The way Kuro looks back up on him, lust-heavy eyes, red cheeks and swollen lips wrapped tightly around his cock, is so debauched yet so beautiful that Chiaki feels himself finally let go, and he can't even find the words to warn him as he comes into Kuro’s mouth. Not that a warning seems necessary, when Kuro swallows his cum so easily it's almost as if he knew it was coming anyways. Even after he comes, Kuro keeps sucking until Chiaki’s cum runs dry and his dick turns flaccid. Only then does Kuro pull away, wiping his chin on his shoulder while his hands continue to work his own cock, thick and dripping.

 

“Morisawa,” Kuro moans, and without any breath to spare all Chiaki can do is meet his eyes, “Morisawa, you're so-” Kuro’s voice breaks off into a low groan as he comes in his own hand.

 

Neither of them speak for a moment, the only sounds their own shallow breathing as they both stare at Kuro’s hand almost as if anticipating something unknown. Eventually, Kuro stands, holding his clean hand below his soiled one to stop his overflowing cum from dripping on the floor.

 

“There, uh, any napkins over there, Morisawa?” Kuro asks.

 

“Oh, yeah, let me just…” Chiaki bends back and reaches for the napkins at the bedside table. “... Come on, come on… Aha! Give me your hands, Kiryu.”

 

Kuro does as asked, silently holding out his hands as Chiaki takes his wrist and begins to wipe him down. Kuro’s hands are big and warm, and as much as Chiaki loves everything about Kuro, he has to say his hands are one of his favorite parts of him (tied with every other part of him, of course). Finished cleaning his first hand, Chiaki plants a kiss to his palm before moving on to the other hand. Well, there's not so much cum on this hand, only what dripped down from his right hand, and to waste one whole napkin for so little would be criminal, right? Right! Saving resources is important, after all. So Chiaki puts down the napkins and brings Kuro’s hand up to his mouth, licking away the salty white drops from his skin, then sliding his tongue between each of his fingers and dipping them each into mouth for good measure. When he's done, he pecks at Kuro's knuckles.

 

“Clean enough?” Chiaki asks.

 

“Yeah,” Kuro fixes his hand with a flustered look for a few seconds before tucking himself back into his pants, and then Chiaki.  “Yeah, definitely.”

 

“Good,” Chiaki laughs and pulls Kuro in for a kiss, slow and sweet even if he can taste himself on Kuro’s lips. “Thanks, Kiryu. You know, maybe I should get hurt more often, if it means you'll take care of me like this.”

 

“You get yourself hurt on purpose and I swear I'm never sucking your dick again,” Kuro’s threat might seem serious if not for the snorting laugh he gives after.

 

“I won't, I'm kidding!” Chiaki whines and buries his head in Kuro’s chest. “Please keep sucking my dick.”

 

“As long as you behave,” Kuro teases, and Chiaki feels his laugh in his chest more than he hears it. “Anyway, I should get back to class now.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Even if Chiaki stole Kuro for much longer than he should have, he still feels a seed of disappointment settle in his stomach. “Are you going to be in the dojo after class?”

 

“Yeah,” Kuro kisses the top of Chiaki's head, “meet me there?”

 

“Meet you there,” Chiaki agrees as he tilts his head up to steal a kiss from Kuro's lips. “Now get back to class.”

 

“All right,” Kuro ruffles Chiaki's hair before he walks towards the door. Hand on the handle, he calls over his shoulder “take care of yourself, Morisawa, rest up” (“yesssss mom”) before slipping out of the room.

 

Really, what a handful that guy is, Kuro thinks to himself, though he means it as fondly as possible.

 

“Kiryu, what are you doing here?” Kuro shifts his gaze to the left, and there stands Jin, looking wholly disinterested in his own question but had to ask it anyway.

 

“I was just checking in on Morisawa,” it's not a lie, and Kuro hopes Jin will drop it at that.

 

“Oh. Well, get back to class, all right? Jin sighs, and Kuro shuffles out of his way as he makes for the door. “But first, you have a little something on your chin.” 

  
Jin is gone before Kuro can get another word in, so Kuro just meticulously wipes down his chin before stalking off back to class.

**Author's Note:**

> Kurochia is good, also can you tell I just gave up halfway through.


End file.
